


Driving Stick

by Ryukin



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Exhibitionism, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-31
Updated: 2018-07-31
Packaged: 2019-06-19 13:07:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,530
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15510549
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ryukin/pseuds/Ryukin
Summary: A slow moment in Alexandria turns up the heat. Poor Glenn is stuck. Why did he go on a supply run with these two?





	Driving Stick

“Supply run,” Rick said amicably as he walked past Glenn basking in the sun on the porch.

 

“Sweet.” As nice as the sun was, Glenn was itching to _do_ something. He bounced down the stairs, pulling his hat from his back pocket and fell into line behind Rick.

 

He heard Rick sigh before he stopped at the house he, Carl and Michonne were staying in; Glenn almost ran smack into him. He followed Rick’s sight line to find Daryl skinning rabbits on the porch.

Glenn watched a thick drop of blood roll down the steps to join with the pool below and tried to hold back a grimace. There were reasons he was the supply guy - canned corn didn't _bleed_.

 

“Daryl,” Rick said, sounding exasperated. He waited for the man's attention and decided the half assed grunt he received was good enough. “We've really gotta work _with_ the neighborhood.” Daryl finally looked up, squinting against the sun rising high and hot behind Rick and Glenn. Glenn’s lips quirked in a smile as he watched Daryl's eyes slip down then slowly back up Rick's long body. Rick paid him no mind and continued, “I don't think the homeowner's association will appreciate blood on the porch.”

 

Daryl scowled and flipped him off. He had blood smeared by his elbow.

 

Rick laughed, never taking offense at Daryl's shit. “C'mon, we're going for supplies.”

 

Daryl turned back to his work at hand. The rabbit's skin came off easily. Glenn's stomach churned. “Why,” Daryl finally grunted.

 

Rick sauntered over to him, leaning a skinny hip on the stair rail. Glenn didn't need to see the smile he was wearing to know it was there. The one that turned hard ass Daryl into butter in his hand. He snickered and hid it behind a cough.

 

“‘Cause it's hot and I'm bored. We always need more food, too.” Daryl held the rabbit up by its lucky back legs and Rick laughed, full and mirthful. “Let's find something to go with that, yeah? Finish up, let's go.”

 

He stood right where he was as Daryl finished skinning dinner. Daryl mumbled something lost to Glenn's ears that made Rick laugh again, soft and secret and just between then. Glenn shuffled on his feet, feeling like he was intruding.

 

Daryl eventually stood, ignoring Rick’s offered hand. They walked together, Rick shaking his head at the small blood trail Daryl was leaving up the street. Daryl broke off at Carol’s house, waving the rabbits at her as she opened the door.

 

“Aww, Pookie, you shouldn't have,” she teased. “Come wash up.”

 

“Gotta go,” Daryl threw a thumb back at the two waiting for him in the street. “Supply run.” Carol nodded hello to Rick and Glenn and forced Daryl in to at least wash his damn hands.

 

Damn hands clean a minute later, Daryl joined them again with a short list from Carol of things she and the pantry needed. Daryl shook his head toward the gate and away they went.

 

Rick took keys from his jeans as they reached the gate, rattling them in his palm. They didn't sound familiar.

 

“Take the new truck today. I have a feeling we'll need it,” Rick said, voice light with positivity.

 

The ‘new truck’ was at least twice as old as Glenn, more rust than chassis. The engine was solid and strong though, so it was a good find Glenn had made a couple weeks ago. He was still secretly gloating about it.

 

They piled in, Rick talking the wheel and Daryl shotgun. Glenn stood by his door tapping his toes. Daryl picked at his nails with his buck knife, pointedly ignoring Glenn. When Glenn cleared his throat in an ‘ahem, move’ sort of way, Daryl grunted and motioned for him to get in the bed.

 

“Uh, no thanks. I'm done playing walker bait.”

 

Daryl made a big show about hopping out of the truck, such an arduous task to take his filthy boots off the dash and let Glenn squeeze between them. He climbed back in and Glenn caught the grin on his face before he set his face back to a grumpy scowl.

 

Rick reached behind him and tousled Daryl’s hair - Carol must have made him shower that week, he looked squeaky clean for once - and turned the truck over. His arm brushed Glenn's shoulders as he slid it back to the gearshift.

 

The gearshift was awkwardly prominent between Glenn's legs. He tried to move sidesaddle around it, feet in Daryl's footwell, but that put his knees under Daryl's legs and he shoved Glenn back over.

 

Glenn jerked forward, barely catching himself as the truck shook into gear. Rick almost punched his knee with the oversize shifter. The thing took up the entire cab.

 

Rick grumbled at the truck, fighting it into gear too soon. Glenn could feel Daryl glare through him. Rick shifted the truck into fourth easily but the engine had no oomph since they still hadn't reached even twenty miles an hour.

 

“What the hell man, can't you drive?” Daryl groused.

 

“Yes, I can,” Rick retorted, half teasing and half pissy.

 

“I can -" Glenn started.

 

Rick interrupted, “Got it.” The truck shook its way through an intersection without stopping. One of the joys of the post apocalyptic world.

 

“Downshift, idiot.”

 

“You can do that?” Rick looked surprised and happy at Daryl's command. He also looked confused.

 

“Want me to -" Glenn started again. He had no problems driving the truck when he found it, thank you. He could drive.

 

“Jesus, stop the truck,” Daryl said, throwing his feet down.

 

“No, I got it.”

 

“No, you ain't, stop the damn truck.”

 

Rick did with a sigh. Well, he braked until the engine cut out because he left it in gear.

 

Daryl jumped from the truck and slammed the door behind him. He stomped around the nose, shaking his head. He jerked the driver's door open and waved Rick over. “Ain't ever drive stick before. Damn idiot.”

 

Rick scooted down the bench seat, pressing Glenn into the door. “Ookay then,” Glenn mumbled, settling in to the notch in the door to get some room away from Rick's gangly limbs.

 

Daryl started the truck in the proper gear, smooth and simple. He glared over at Rick, who held his hands up in surrender and laughed. “Thought I'd learn!” Daryl just continued to glare as he accelerated and shifted to second, his elbow jamming fast back between Rick's lazy spread legs. “Whoa, watch it!” Rick flinched.

 

Daryl turned back to the road with a smirk. “Watch you don't put your junk in my way then.”

 

Rick snorted. “Like there's a lot of room.”

 

Daryl shrugged and asked where they were going. Rick gave the vague direction to keep going forward. Daryl hummed and shifted up as the road opened up. “See how easy that is?” he teased. “Everything works together, can't just ram it up to high gear at the get.”

 

“Yeah, yeah.” Rick spread out, one arm back behind Daryl's headrest and the other resting on his knee. He fiddled with his fingers, reaching for the tape deck and stopping when Daryl growled at him.

 

“Don't you dare. Fuckin’ hick-ass shit.”

 

Glenn laughed. He relaxed into the door, comfortable with his friends on the road. It had been a quiet week and they had all been waffling between feeling over-antsy and waiting for shit to go pear shaped, and taking the given moment to breathe and just _be_ before the guilt of being lazy caught. Stuck like a sardine in the truck, he had no choice but to relax for the ride.

 

He saw a couple walkers out the window but they were too far away to matter. The road was fairly empty of debris and abandoned vehicles so Daryl drove faster.

 

Rick's sharp inhale caught his attention and he turned. He watched as Daryl slowly dragged his lower arm up Rick's inseam, elbow grazing the bunched denim where thigh met hips. Daryl was leaning into his space to shift to fourth, whole body put into the action.

 

Sure, it was a long gearshift, but he was hamming it up.

 

“What the hell, Daryl?” Rick asked, sounding slightly winded.

 

Daryl just grinned, fast and crooked. His face was back to neutral as he snarked, “Wanna learn to drive stick. Middle of goddamn nowhere after the whole world ends and _you_ wanna learn stick.”

 

“Yeah. And?”

 

Daryl doesn't answer, just drummed his fingers on the shift knob. He rolled his hand over it, watching as Rick's eyes fell to follow the movement. He turned from the road, looking Rick up and down as his fingers trailed down the shifter, trailing gently over its curve.

 

Daryl worried at a dry patch of skin on his lip. Glenn felt Rick stiffen in his seat next to him. The atmosphere in the cab changed as Rick watched Daryl's hands, one on the knob between his knees, the other resting lazily on the apex of the steering wheel.

 

He thought about cracking the window but didn't think that would help. He looked outside instead. The truck slowed and barely jerked as Daryl downshifted. Rick made a helpless noise at the back of his throat and Glenn wondered why he had come.

 

Rick's nails dragged over the worn denim on his thigh and Glenn grit his teeth. He didn't want to see what the hell Daryl was doing.

 

… What the hell _was_ Daryl doing?

 

He couldn't help but look.

 

Daryl had half an eye on the road to swerve around a downed branch and half an eye on his hand, wrist laying across the shifter and fingers tracing up and down the inside of Rick's thigh. Rick was watching Daryl's face as he scooted down the seat, pressing into Daryl's touch.

 

A sigh escaped Daryl's mouth. “Rick,” he near growled, voice rumbling from his gut. He dropped his hand from the gearshift and tentatively spread his fingers along Rick's thigh.

 

Glenn's jaw dropped and he slammed his hand over his mouth. He saw Daryl's eyes snap to Rick's thighs, spread as much as they could in tight quarters.

 

Daryl was always watching Rick. Always a step behind, eyes wandering from his position in flank. Always looking to Rick for guidance, comfort, support. Always just _looking_ at him, face closed off and distant. Nothing happening in the truck should come as a surprise. Except that Glenn was right there, damn it!

 

Rick signed, scratching his fingers over Daryl's scalp.

 

“Stop,” Daryl pulled his head away.

 

“No.”

 

“Rick, goddamnit.” He slid the truck into neutral and pulled the parking brake before it had stopped fully. Glenn caught himself on the dash; Rick's momentum was stopped with Daryl's body as he turned and slid a knee between Rick's legs. He pushed Rick back, mouth open as he lost his breath. Rick curled his hand back in his hair, pulling him closer. “I'll show you how to drive stick. Damnit.”

 

Rick leaned close, almost cheek to cheek, and what little breath Daryl had caught stuttered. He wrapped his other hand around Daryl's cheek. Daryl braced his hands on Rick's legs, fingers curling and creeping higher.

 

“Oh my god, guys.” Glenn's hands went from his mouth to cover his eyes so of course he had to let commentary run. “It's like finding out your parents have sex. I mean, of course they do, or they probably do, you hope they do, but not really because ew. And there's knowing and there's _seeing_ and why _now_ , can you just wait, can you just _please_?”

 

He cracked open an eye between his fingers and saw Rick nuzzling up Daryl's neck as he pulled his head back by his tangled hair. Daryl had his hand one hundred percent on Rick's dick, hard under his jeans, no more pussyfooting around with stick shift double entendres.

 

“ _Really?!”_ he squeaked.

 

Daryl rolled his head over as Rick traded sides to bite up his exposed neck. He couldn't hide the blissed out smile cracking his face, eyes fluttering mostly shut under Rick's teeth and tongue. “No one asked you to look.”

 

“How can I avoid?!”

 

Daryl moaned and leaned back as Rick worked open the buttons on the ripped flannel he wore under his vest. Rick's tongue slid over his collarbone.

 

Daryl stabbed a pointing finger in front of Glenn’s face at the window. “Go then.”

 

Glenn looked outside and saw telltale movement in the treeline off the road. “No, there's walkers out there!”

 

“Bitch, bitch, bitch,” Daryl muttered, stretching his legs up and hovering over Rick. Rick's mouth fell open as Glenn heard the teeth of a zipper slide apart. Rick strained up, reaching to meet barely smiling lips just out of reach. “Shut up, then.” Daryl's rough voice hit a new low as he shuffled his knees on the seat, boots clicking against the dash and gearshift.

 

“Oh god, why,” Glenn cursed. Rick reached blindly out and pushed his face away, cheek smashing against the window. Glenn could still see them out the side of his eye.

 

Rick pulled Daryl down by his hair, teeth hitting as their lips clashed together. Daryl moaned and all but melted until he was sitting on Rick's knees. Rick's loud, rough breathing was all Glenn could hear.

 

Daryl's arm started moving slowly back and forth and Glenn looked out the passenger window. He really didn't need to see him jerk Rick right next to him.

 

Rick sunk further down the seat, legs splayed wide in his tight jeans. His leg was hot against Glenn's, muscles twitching. He dropped his hand from Glenn's face.

 

Glenn was able to keep his eyes out the window for almost a minute before he was greeted with silence.

 

What happened? Had they been joking, ready to laugh at gullible Glenn, loser of gay chicken even though he wasn't actively part of it?

 

Seriously, did they die? What the fuck?

 

He turned and saw Daryl licking a wide stripe up his palm before returning his hand to Rick's cock. Rick's cock, long and thin as the rest of him, standing hard out of his open fly, waiting for Daryl's sure touch.

 

Don't-touch-me-Daryl, king of personal space bubbles and awkwardly avoiding human contact, was leaning into Rick's hands spread wide on his chest. Rick's mouth traced around a defined pec, stopping just long enough to flick his tongue against a pebbled nipple. Rick's words, thick under his lust, “Who's Norman?” he asked about the tattoo over his heart.

 

Daryl shook his head and stroked Rick harder. “No one. Not anymore.”

 

“Good,” Rick growled, hands curling around Daryl's sides to his back.

 

Daryl pulled away abruptly. “No!”

 

Rick's eyes were wide and he pulled his hands out to the sides. “Yeah. Yeah, okay.” Daryl glared at him. “No hands.” Rick's voice went straight to conflict management without sounding condescending. Once a cop, Glenn figured.

 

Daryl’s face twitched and he let Rick's words hang between them. “Hands where I can see ‘em.”

 

Rick nodded and slowly moved back in toward Daryl's chest. “Is this okay?” he asked. Daryl nodded and Rick stroked up his chest, over his collarbones and circled back down. “And this is okay?”

 

“Don't baby me, just don't touch m’ fuckin’ back.”

 

Rick nodded, wrapping his hands around Daryl's sleeveless shirts and pulling him down into a kiss. Daryl's hand, never having left its post on Rick's dick, resumed stroking in earnest. Rick moaned against his mouth.

 

It was a trainwreck. A freaking horrid, burning, collateral damage kind of trainwreck that Glenn couldn't look away from.

 

A collision of two set courses, melded together with heat and kinetic energy. A sexy mess of limbs and need, moving together in the kind of desperation built up over years.

 

Fuck, why couldn't he look away?!

 

Daryl pulled back, straightening his legs. His back cracked as he leaned over Rick, looking like he was thoroughly enjoying their swapped height difference. “I want …” he trailed off, biting his lip.

 

“Yes,” Rick nodded.

 

“I didn't even -"

 

Rick grabbed his face and held him close. “Yes,” he said, sure and final.

 

Glenn saw a shiver run the length of Daryl's body. He imagined his toes had even curled in his boots. He held his breath, feeling his own blood boiling waiting for what was next.

 

Daryl searched Rick's face a moment and dug in the pockets of his cargo pants. He emptied a bunch of shit on the floor under Glenn - a couple rubber bands, two bullets, a small rock, a felt tip pen, a wad of paper and a few things Glenn didn't recognize - until he found what he was looking for.

 

He put the small procured tube in his mouth, hanging from the side like a cigarette, and tore at his belt.

 

Glenn's eyes flew open.

 

Rick sat in a tense stillness, not breathing, not moving.

 

Daryl unzipped his pants and shimmied them down to his knees. He wasn't wearing underwear.

 

Rick's hand twitched.

 

Daryl threw the tube behind him on the dash and brought a hand to his mouth; he bit the side of his thumb. His open shirt framed his body, flushed chest to thick hard cock.

 

“I'm gonna touch you,” Rick said. Daryl nodded. Rick gently pulled his hand from his face and Daryl held his breath. Hands ran down and up his chest, curling back over his neck. Rick's hands cupped his face again, thumbs running the edge of his pale goatee. Daryl closed his eyes. “I'm gonna kiss you,” Rick mumbled as he pulled his face down.

 

“Yes.”

 

Rick controlled the kiss, keeping it slow as he worked Daryl's mouth open with his own. He slid his tongue along Daryl's bottom lip as he touched his dick gently with his fingertips. Daryl whined and thrust into his hand, making Rick smile before biting his lip. Daryl was making more noise than Glenn had heard from him the last month, moaning and pleading, little huffs of half bitten words stroked out of him by Rick's insistent hand.

 

“I'm gonna come,” Rick whispered. Glenn's stomach jumped and he looked away. He could still see them in his peripheral but tried to give them a moment of privacy at least.

 

“No. No, Rick, don't,” Daryl answered. He tightened his grip on Rick's cock, following him as he moved his hips back. “Not yet.”

 

“Then stop touching me.” Daryl whined, hand still stroking. “Daryl,” Rick said again, in his commanding leader voice.

 

Daryl pulled his hand off and sat back. His hips rocked into Rick's loose grip on his cock. Glenn turned to the window, biting the inside of his cheek after he saw a large bead of precome ooze free and roll over Rick's hand. The pleased noise Rick made was pornographic anyway, no point in feigning modesty, so he found his eyes wandering back.

 

Daryl was leaning back, held in place by Rick's hand on his ass, his other still working Daryl's leaking dick. He kissed down his smooth chest, scraping his teeth over defined muscles.

 

“Rick,” Daryl pled. Rick hummed and Daryl pushed him back. He slid against the seatback, Daryl climbing off him.

 

Rick protested but Daryl wasn't gone for long, he just shoved his pants as far down his legs as his boots would let him and straddled Rick's legs again, backwards.

 

Glenn watched Rick struggle not to stroke up Daryl's back. His hand went so far as to ghost over the wings on his vest but he held back.

 

Daryl stretched out over the dashboard, scrabbling for the tube he had thrown there. Rick did touch his ass, grabbing both cheeks in a tight squeeze. Daryl moaned deep around the tube’s cap in his mouth as he twisted it open.

 

Glenn watched Rick tilt his head in thought and could practically see inspiration hit. “Pen,” he ordered sticking his hand out to Glenn.

 

Glenn, eyes wide at being acknowledged - so they hadn't forgotten he was _right next to them_ \- paused. Rick didn't look away from Daryl on his lap as he made the order again. Glenn leaned over to search for the pen from Daryl's pocket by his feet. He tried to ignore Daryl's dick standing proud by his face, closing his eyes and searching with his hand.

 

Successful, he handed the felt tip to Rick, who tore the cap off with his teeth, one hand caressing Daryl's ass. “You may have someone's name on your heart,” he muttered, spitting the cap out, “But you're mine right now.” He scrawled his name on Daryl's ass, a half cursive feat of chicken scratch that would have made Glenn's general practitioner cousin jealous.

 

The moan that spilled from Daryl's lips would have sounded pained if Glenn hadn't been up close and personal with his dick jumping with desire. Rick smacked his bare cheek, rubbing it soothingly after. Daryl pressed back into him, rubbing his ass over Rick's cock.

 

He laid his head in his arms folded on the dash. “M’ grampa,” he said quietly.

 

“What?” Rick asked, scratching his nails down Daryl's thighs.

 

“Norman. The name. Grampa.”

 

“Oh.” Rick's hands slowed. “Oops.”

 

Daryl breathed what could almost have been a laugh and ground back against Rick again. “Nah. Like when ya get all possessive.”

 

Rick grinned. “Really,” he stated. Daryl nodded and sat back to fumble with the tube from his pocket again. Rick's hands curled over his chest, pushing his shirts aside to touch the long line of skin from neck to cock. He kissed the back of Daryl's neck and Daryl squeezed the tube too hard, swearing as he spilled it down his arm.

 

Lube. Daryl was collecting the spilt lube with his fingers and Glenn felt his head swim, knowing what was coming next. Maybe it wasn't too late to take his chances with the walkers.

 

He couldn't move, though, glued to the seat with Daryl's bare calf pressed against his leg, eyes stuck as Daryl reached behind himself to prep for Rick's cock.

 

Oh god, why couldn't he look away! His breath caught in his throat as Daryl pushed his first finger in, leaning back into his own touch. Rick pushed him forward against the dash, attention rapt on Daryl's slowly thrusting finger. He muttered filthy encouragement, spreading Daryl's cheeks for a better view.

 

Rick pushed him further up the dash, setting a loud moan free from Daryl’s mouth as he pushed a second finger in. He leaned back into his thrusts and into Rick's hands greedily kneading his ass. He threw his free arm over his head, pushing back against the windshield.

 

Glenn saw a glob of lube ooze free, quickly caught with a swipe of Rick's thumb. He rubbed over Daryl's hole, brushing against his fingers and pressing in when Daryl's fingers pulled out.

 

“Rick,” Daryl growled into the dash, all but throwing his ass back on Rick's thumb. One thumb in, two fingers circling the swelling wet entrance, and Daryl lost his shit. “Now. Now, Rick, now.”

 

Rick pulled him back by the hair, his voice rumbling over his ear, “Are you sure?”

 

“Fuck yeah,” Daryl nodded, movement stilted by the hand knotted in his hair. “Fuck, Rick, _now_.”

 

“Yeah. C’mere.” He unwound his fingers and held his hand splayed wide over Daryl's collarbone, holding him close as he lined up his cock. “Yeah, Daryl.”

 

They moved in tandem, like they had for years - Rick thrusting in and up, Daryl falling in a controlled collapse onto Rick's lap. Daryl shivered full body, voice caught in his throat. He settled for a short moment and everybody in the truck held their breath.

 

Daryl exhaled and rose up on his knees, slamming back down. The lusty moan that spilled from Rick's mouth was incongruous with the teeth he had bared at the base of Daryl's neck. They moved, fast and hard, and Glenn tried to look anywhere but the wet joining of their bodies.

 

He failed.

 

Daryl braced against the ceiling and slung his other arm back to grab Rick's face, dragging him close. Glenn couldn't hear what Rick was whispering in his ear but he could see how it made Daryl tremble.

 

Faster and faster they moved, Daryl's leg pressed harder against Glenn's as he lost his balance. Rick caught him by the hips and controlled their fucking.

 

“Touch yourself,” he ordered Daryl. Daryl did and lost himself to orgasm in moments. Come spilled thick over his hand and his surprised gasp was left clicking in his throat. Rick pulled him back, seated fully in Daryl, and gave one more hard thrust as he came as well.

 

Glenn moaned, uncomfortably turned on. He closed his eyes. He felt rattled.

 

His body shook back and forth and when he opened them, he blinked back at the darkness.

 

Maggie's face hovered over his, smiling crookedly. “Wherever that was, you're sharing with me.”

 

“What?” Glenn didn't know where he was. Where was the truck? Rick, Daryl? Why was he tangled in blankets with Maggie’s face and naked shoulders and her hand trailing up his chest and _dear god_ did he really just dream that? “Oh no,” he muttered.

 

“Oh yes. You've gotta share, that dream sounded amazing.” Her voice was thick and slow, she must have just woken up. He must have just woken her up. With a sex dream. About his friends.

 

“Oh, no no no,” he felt his face heat up and cursed his inability to play it cool.

 

“Come on, Glenn. As my husband,” she teased, fingers playing down his chest and stomach, “Half of yours is mine. So share this dream with me.” He didn't make a move to do so so she pouted. “It's been _how_ long since I've enjoyed any porn, Glenn, please share. I'll make it worth your while.” Her hand slipped lower and a dirty smile lit her face.

 

Glenn stared at her, trying to ignore the erection he was painfully aware of. “You like porn? Since when, what kind?” he asked, trying to change the subject.

 

She rolled her eyes. “I was a farm girl, not dead, gheeze. Now quit stalling.” She always saw through his shit.

 

Glenn breathed in hard, steeling himself. “But -" he shattered.

 

“No buts, boy, c’mon!” She playfully tapped his chest.

 

Glenn shut his eyes, trying to ignore the press of her breasts against his arm and her fingers toying with the hair peppering his lower abdomen. “Don't laugh at me,” he squeaked.

 

“Oh, no promises, darlin’.”

 

Glenn took a deep breath and started, “So it was a warm day and I was out on the porch, Rick came by and said …”

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


If Glenn couldn't make eye contact with Daryl for two whole weeks after, no one noticed. And if Maggie couldn't stop a giggle when she saw Daryl playfully thump Rick in the stomach as they passed on the street, no one said anything. They _did_ hear from their neighbors that their especially enthusiastic sex that morning was not appreciated and would they please stuff a sock in it.

 

Glenn swore to share his dreams with Maggie, and she promised not to poke fun at him over them.

 

Too much.

 


End file.
